


Strangers In A Strange Land

by coveredbyroses



Series: 2019 SPN Kink Bingo [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Outdoor Sex, Purgatory, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 11:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18871963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: A chance meeting with a stranger in Purgatory leads to some very satisfactory results.





	Strangers In A Strange Land

The dirt’s damp with the dewy morning, slicking against your cheek as it slides over the earth. He’s got you by the hips, fingers pressing into the flesh as he fucks into you. Your jeans are tugged down just above your knees, doesn’t give you much room to spread your legs, but it’s good; makes you tighter.

You don’t even know the guy’s name - he’d nearly beheaded you only half an hour ago after mistaking you for one of Purgatory’s monsters - but once he’d realized his error, the heat began to simmer. It’s a rough thing, stranded in this battlefield all on your own on tense, unending alert. You’re not even sure how long you’ve been out here - or why, but it’s been long enough. One look at the stranger; the sight and scent of human masculinity, and you were putty.

He shifts, leaves the ghost of his grip on your waist as he gets down on his forearms,  _really_  anchors down, and gives you thrust deep enough to make you see stars. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been in your life you think, can feel it sluicing out hot with every meaty drag of his cock.

Dirt cakes under your fingernails as you claw at the forest floor, arms splayed in front, and the knees of your jeans are already soaked through with the cold wet of the soil. Your teeth are deep into the cracked cushion of your bottom lip to keep the sounds buried in your chest - the last thing you need is to draw the attention of a Vamp or Leviathan.

His chest is flush with your back, and the weight of him is  _delicious_ ; pinned underneath all that raw, brutal strength. He’s grunting over you, hot breath washing over your ear, the sound of it winding you tighter and tighter.

He ups the pace into a rhythm that has your eyes rolling, and your teeth release their hold as your jaw goes slack with the pleasure. You manage a hand down between your thighs to get your fingers on your clit, uncaring of the dirt and grime your rubbing with.

“Yeah,” the man whispers, nips at the shell of your ear. “Fuck, yeah. Make that pretty clit  _sing_.” His words shoot straight to where you’re pulsing so hot, and you start to rub harder; no rhythm, just a desperate chase to finally, finally  _come_. You can feel the velvety brush of his shaft against your fingertips every time he plunges in, and he groans with the touch.

“Shit-shit-shit!” you whisper-chant in time with his hammering thrusts. The heat, the pressure, the  _pleasure_  - all of it  _crests, crests, crests_ until until the explosion rockets through you, has you clamping and squeezing and shaking under all that hot, jerking muscle.

He pulls out before the aftershocks have time to dim, and the  _sounds_  he’s making nearly throws you into a second orgasm. The slick noise of skin on skin is swiftly followed by a wet heat striping over your lower back, oozing down the line of your spine with the slant of your hips.

The earth crunches under heavy boots as he gets back on his feet, and you flop to your back and lift your hips to pull your jeans back snug. Once fastened, you’re damp and tacky all over, wincing as you stiffly stand. The stranger takes note and cracks a crooked grin. “Stream?” He offers, and nods to the west.

“Yeah,” you chuckle, dragging your hands through your wild hair. “Definitely.”


End file.
